


Best Served Cold

by D_OShae



Category: Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964)
Genre: Christmas, Dark Comedy, Gen, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28048587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_OShae/pseuds/D_OShae
Summary: Nearly a year after saving Christmas Eve, neither Hermey nor Rudolph see an overwhelming change in their status at the North Pole. It seems some habits prove harder to break than other. As a result, the two friends decided to take matters into their own hands and hoofs.NOTE: This darkly comic short story contains triggers. Readers are advise to use discretion.[Also, this piece got created for the r/FanFictionThe 2020 Christmas Fanfiction Challenge]
Kudos: 3





	Best Served Cold

For nearly a year the thoughts niggled at him. He began to seethe as he pondered the events of the previous season. No matter how hard he tried, he could not dismiss the capricious and uncaring manner of those around him. They seemed to believe the worth of a person only stemmed from service or utility one could offer. The notions began to burn a hole in Hermey’s mind as the months wore on toward Christmas Eve.

“It hurts, Hermey. Make it stop! I thought you were a good dentist?” The head elf complained as he lay back in the chair and opened his mouth.

The vile order of chocolate, peppermint, and tooth decay wafted up into Hermey’s face, even penetrating the mask he wore, and he fought to keep his gag reflex in check. Ten months of treating the elves who dismissed him as a misfit, an oddball, caused him to develop rancorous feelings. The elves still tended to be dismissive toward him until they needed Hermey to fix a tooth. More often than not, the damage resulted from the lack of dental hygiene the elves typically displayed. The head elf occupying the dental chair made for a perfect example.

“Still haven’t figured out how to brush every day yet?” Hermey counter-complained.

“I’m a busy elf. You know that. I wake up and think about toys. I make toys and think about toys. I tell others how to make toys while I think about toys. I eat and think about toys. Then, I go to bed thinking about toys and dream about making toys. Who’s got time for tooth brushing when so many toys need to be made?” The rotund elf with the clearly evil goatee mumbled.

“No excuse!” The dental specialist yelled into the mouth of the supine elf. “I don’t know if there’s enough tooth here to save. I think I’m going to have to pull it.”

“But that’ll be the twelfth one you’ve pulled!”

“Not my fault. Good heavens! It looks like a garbage pit in here!”

In the waiting room painted a bright shade of yellow containing bright blue chairs and a bright greet coffee table, two elves glanced nervously at one another when they began to hear screams coming out of the examination room. They dressed in the same medium blue jackets with white fur trim, red leggings, and black curly-toed shoes while a blue conical hat with a red ribbon adorned their heads. Behind the reception desk sat a female elf dressed in a similar style, except her clothing pulsed a pink color not seen outside the occasional bottle of over-the-counter upset stomach medicine. A plastic plate with the name Gladys carved into it sat before the women. She glanced in obvious discomfort toward the door.

“Hold still, you buffoon!” Hermey shouted at the man as he stood on the barrel chest in order to get leverage to yank out the tooth. A great set of dental pliers got held firm and clamped onto the offending dentin.

The head elf howled and squirmed in this chair. Hermey did not administer any form of topical anesthetic, did not numb the gums or nerves, and did not even offer a sedative before beginning his treatment. As he jerked on and twisted the pliers, he recalled two years previous when the head elf called him a useless and worthless elf. Hermey began to take a small measure of delight in hearing the elf scream. It seemed a justified retribution each time he removed a rotten tooth from the cesspit the elf called a mouth.

“Just a little more,” the dentist giggled as he wrenched the dental tool from side to side.

“Ooooohhhhhh… ow… nyahhhhhh,” the head elf exclaimed.

Blood and flecks of enamel started to fly from the orifice as the tooth started to crack and come free. Hermey gave one final tug, and the molar popped out of the socket. He tumbled backward off of the head elf to land on his back on the floor. The decayed tooth remained held in the pliers. Blood and gum viscera clung to the roots. A small, wicked smile crossed Hermey’s face. He slowly stood up. A quick scan of the head elf revealed the man passed out.

“Serves you right. Moron,” he said and waggled the offending tooth at the head elf.

Hermey then went about packing the now empty socket with gauze. Although he briefly considered leaving it open, the idea the head elf would return with the fissure filled with stray bits of candy and cookies needing to be removed did not appeal to him. Better to make sure he does not have an immediate reason to come back, the dentist thought. Once finished with clean up and post removal inspection, Hermey slapped the man awake.

“Ow, it still hurts,” the head elf groggily kvetched.

“Deal with it… and brush your teeth. I saw a few more I might have pull if you don’t start taking care of your teeth!” Hermey grumbled at the man and failed to hide the sense of glee it brought him.

The head elf looked panicked. He began to thrash his legs. He pulled at the armrests of the chair. In the end, Hermey needed to help the portly elf attain a sitting position. The head elf then promptly slithered out of the chair and woozily got to his feet. He glared at Hermey. Hermey smiled a bright, clean, perfect smile at the diminutive man.

“There’s something wrong with you,” the head elf mumbled. “I knew it the day I found out you don’t like to make toys.”

“Something wrong with me?” Hermey barked in disbelief. “I’m not the one so obsessed with making toys I forget brush my teeth after eating sweets all day. At least I have a sense of who I am. Let me ask you this: what’s your name?”

The head elf opened his mouth. Bloody saliva gathered on his lower lip as he stood in silence. Hermey waited and began to tap his foot in exasperation. Half a minute ticked by.

“See? You don’t even have a name. My name is Hermey. I’m a dentist. I have an identity, a distinct personality, and an actual profession,” he sneered with barely contained contempt. “I’m not just a head elf or a painter elf… wrapping elf… a stuffing elf or singing elf. I have a life outside of the workshop. I do more for you people than you ever did for me! Now, shut your mouth and get out of here!”

The head elf glumly closed his mouth, turned, and walked toward the door. He opened it in silence. Then he stepped out. Rudolph the reindeer entered, much to Hermey’s delight. His friend kicked the door closed.

“Rudolph! What a pleasant surprise!” Hermey gushed at the now strapping lead reindeer with full set of antlers crowning his head.

“Hi ya, Hermey,” the gravely voice rejoined. “See you took care of him.”

“Didn’t use a single drop of novacaine before I extracted his tooth!”

Rudolph winced for a second before he started to chortle.

“I keep telling that blowhard to brush and floss his teeth, but he never listens. I figure if I make it painful enough, he might finally do what I tell him to do,” the dentist said in his best professional tone.

“Ah, no, you don’t. You want him to keep forgetting so you can make him look like the Bumble,” the reindeer countered.

“Rudolph! I am shocked and stunned you would accuse me of wanting to harm my fellow elves!”

“You never took the Hip… po… crassy… hippotamic… whatever that oath is.”

“Why should I? I know what I’m doing. Did you see the look on the head elf’s face? That was some quality dentistry!” Hermey boldly stated, and then he sat in the dental chair.

“Quality,” the reindeer snickered.

The two old friends burst into laughter at the barely secret notion Hermey extracted his revenge while offering a real service to the elves. Since returning to the North Pole, the two talked at length about how the others scarcely changed their behavior. The two found very little to celebrate. They both continued to be called names, except when Santa happened to be around. Thus, their lives only marginally improved. As a result, they began to take matters into the own hands and hoofs.

“Say? What are you doing here? I thought you had bad weather sleigh pulling training today?” Hermey asked, but the grin asked his real question.

“Oh, you know, accidents happen when flying through a snowstorm. Can I help it if the others don’t pull up in time and my nose happens to go out for a little bit?” Rudolph asked in a totally innocent fashion.

Hermey wrapped his arms around his side and began to burst with laughter. Rudolph’s low baritone laugh joined him. For the past several months they exchanged anecdotes on how various mishaps occurred to elves and reindeer. Hermey admired the way his friend could make the other reindeer look absolutely at fault for whatever accidents befell them. He also relished the times when Rudolph admitted his jealousy over Hermey’s ability to inflict direct pain on the elves.

“Any… injuries?” The dentist knowingly inquired.

“Blitzen is out for at least a week, and Comet might not be ready even by Christmas,” his friend reported.

“No!” Hermey gasped in mock despair.

Rudolph snickered and said: “He broke a fetlock when he slammed into an ice dune after plowing through some trees. I’ve warned them about staying alert during low-level flying in a blizzard. That could’ve been a house… and Santa could’ve gotten hurt!”

“Always looking out for that bowl of rancid jelly. You’re a better person than me, Rudy.”

“I’m a reindeer, Hermey, so I don’t have to be a better person!”

They erupted into another fit of laughter. Behind the laughter lay the fact that, try as they may, the past simply would not go away. Hermey, while popular for his dentistry skills and the relief he could bring to the elf community, still received comments about not being a proper elf. They wondered why he did not volunteer to help make toys when not seeing patients. Rudolph also experienced his fair share of remarks. Some noted that he did not fly very well when he flew just as well as the others. A few wondered if he would die from the unusual nose and that, if such might be the case, he made Santa Claus to dependent on his nose. The undertones began shortly after the end of the previous Christmas season. By the middle of the arctic summer, both got fed up with the insults and slurs.

“Did they figure out what happened to Fireball yet?” Hermey asked in a cagey fashion.

“No, not yet. Weird he got hung up in his harness while trying to a loop-the-loop and strangled while he fell to his death,” Rudolph replied in a solemn manner, but the smirk on his face told a different story.

“Between you and me, that was a brilliant plan. Of course he couldn’t let you show him up. Too bad he used the gear for a much larger reindeer.”

“Shame, isn’t it?”

For many weeks the North Pole burbled with speculation on how Fireball managed to mix up his harness and rig for Titan’s set. In mid-flight as Fireball tried to enter the open loop stage, the harness slid around his body and snared his right front leg. The reindeer struggled to free the limb, but his actions only caused the harness to tighten around his neck. Fireball panicked. Before anyone could think to lend him any aid, the reindeer tumbled out of the sky and crashed onto the frozen wastes below. The fall broke his neck, and he died in an instant. Rudolph feigned being too upset to attend the funeral, and spent the afternoon reliving the details in private. He only very slowly revealed the entire plot to his friend, Hermey.

“Do you know he called me a faerie once instead of an elf. He tried to pass it off as mistake…”

“Mistake?” Rudolph bluntly interjected. His muscled body flexed in agitation. The white patch of fur on his chest rose like hackles. “Faeries are only six inches tall at most. You’re at least three-foot, four…”

“Three-foot and five inches, my friend. Every inch counts!” Hermey corrected him.

They giggled at the slightly lewd undercurrent of his comment. The two slowly calmed. Hermey stared at his friend. A quiet exchange took place.

“Do you… I don’t know… ever feel… maybe a little guilty about all of this?” Rudolph inquired.

“Do you?” The elf quickly countered.

They locked eyes. Both knew what the other deliberately did, and neither raised a hand or hoof to stop any of it. The reindeer considered the past year. He did not feel remorse. He tried to let bygones be bygones, but the steady, somewhat covert, stream of comments aimed at him by the other reindeer made it impossible to ignore. Even Clarice made note of the constant subtle insults lobbed in Rudolph’s direction. The sleigh team openly stated they did not think Rudolph earned his position through ability, but rather through anomaly. It did not seem to matter to them that he passed every single sleigh team test. His red nose remained controversial regardless of Santa’s efforts to smooth over the situation.

“No, not really. It’s not like anything got better. It’s just not out in the open like it used to be,” the reindeer admitted.

“I don’t know about that, Rudolph. They’re still pretty open about what they think. I hear it from the elves all the time that a real elf should want to make toys. I guess that means I’m not a real elf. I swear half of them have brain damage from the paint fumes,” Hermey retorted in dire frustration.

“Yeah, like the reindeer not getting enough oxygen to their brains after too many high-altitude Christmas flights. Cupid and Vixen can barely talk anymore. They just sort of make these grunting, gurgling noises,” Rudolph joined in.

“Maybe you did Fireball a favor?”

“Maybe,” the four-legged one replied. “So, ah, which one’s next on your naughty and nice list?”

“That idiot choir elf… the tall one with the glasses.”

Rudolph rolled his eyes in a disparaging gesture. He heard Hermey bitterly complain in the past that the elf in question routinely led others in taunting the dentist. It became painfully obvious the unusually tall elf used Hermey to distract others from his rather noticeable difference.

“He keeps saying he thinks dentistry is make-believe, even after I capped all his teeth!” Hermey grated out the words between his lips.

“You’re too nice,” his friend remarked.

“I know, except next time he comes in I am going to forget the difference between nitrous oxide and carbon monoxide. They’re both colorless, odorless gasses… except you wake up from nitrous oxide.”

“Will anyone be able to figure it out?”

“The elves?” Hermey begged the question. “Please, most of them don’t even know what time it is let alone the day. If it weren’t for the big countdown clock in the workroom, they’d forget when Christmas Eve is. They can’t even figure out what I do is important, so what would they ever know about gases?”

“Yeah, but you can’t do that each of them. They’ll put the pieces together sooner or later,” Rudolph.

“You’re right, and I already thought of that. I got an order of cyanide implant teeth I put in from the British MI6. Plus, there’s a few teeth I am letting go septic. If I space all the tactics out, they’ll never make sense of it.”

Rudolph nodded his head in appreciation.

“What about you? You’ve got to be sick of the sleigh team by now.”

“It was terrible, Hermey. That heavy fog over the Black Sea. I tried to tell Santa, but he kept giving the wrong directions ‘til we crashed into the water. I barely got out alive!” The reindeer quailed.

“Crashed? When? You never…. Oh! Got it. This year?”

Rudolph nodded as he added: “Or whatever sea happens to have a fog bank over it.”

“What about your father?”

“I might try to save him. He’s been getting on me again ‘bout spending too much time around normal reindeer.”

“He did not use the word normal?” Hermey exclaimed in disgust. He sat up in the chair in surprise.

“All the time,” the reindeer confirmed. “If he mentions something being normal on Christmas Eve… I tried, Hermey! I really tried! But the sleigh… it just sank… in the freezing water… I couldn’t get the straps undone! I only have have hoofs for Nicholas’ sake!”

Rudolph’s voice grew more anxious and fearful with each word until he became absolutely shrill by the end. Hermey dissolved in squeaking giggles as he listened and watched the performance. When Rudolph finished, his eyes glistened with excess moisture. The elf thought the reindeer might start to cry.

“That is perfect. And then a new Santa arrives without any memories of what happened. That is really good, Rudy. Really good.”

“Thanks, Hermey. I could also say we got shot down over the Middle East. You’ve heard Santa complain about missiles before, so it wouldn’t seem that strange.”

“Save that for a back-up plan… or maybe for the future. There’s no guarantee a new sleigh team will be any nicer to you,” the elf stated.

Rudolph shrugged as best could to indicate he would think about it. Then he eyed his friend for a few seconds before he asked: “So, what are you going to do when you run out of elves?”

“Really? You know we breed like rabbits… and a little too closely at times. I swear to the Northern Lights our family lines look like a wreath a coke-head wove. Ever notice how none of ‘em ever use the words mom or dad, aunt or uncle? It’s because one person might answer to all four. That’s how inbred the elves are. I might be actually doing us a favor by taking them all out. Maybe it’s time for a new clan to move in.”

The reindeer’s eyes went wide in surprise. Hermey folded his arms across his chest. He did not buy the reindeer’s expression.

“Get off it, Rudy. Don’t act like you don’t know how all the elves are brother and sister to each other in a very literal sense,” Hermey huffed at his friend.

Rudolph chuckled at being caught. Hermey then fully sat up and jumped off the dental chair. He walked over and patted the reindeer on the lower neck.

“I can’t imagine what I would do without you, my friend. I’d probably lose my mind. It’s like we’re still out there on our own ever since Cornelius and the Bumble took off. Can’t believe he let him eat the Snowman,” the elf to Rudolph.

“That Snowman knew way too much, and he was willing to tell everyone and write songs about it. Look what he said about Mrs. Claus!” Rudolph offered his opinion.

“But she was sleeping with Moonracer, so there is that. I mean… a winged lion? What was she thinking, and how would anyone not notice?” Hermey conjectured.

The reindeer again attempted to shrug.

“Okay, as much fun as it is to go over all this, I’ve got patients to see. Drinks later at The Gilded Box?”

Hermey gently lead his friend to the door. Rudolph took the hint. He nodded his head.

“Get me a bucket of oat stout if I’m not there when you turn off the lights here,” Rudolph requested. “I’ve got to file a full accident report with Santa, and that could take a while.”

“Just give him the basic facts. It’s all mostly true anyway,” Hermey suggested.

“Yeah, it is!” The reindeer brightly said as he stepped through the door. “Thanks, Hermey. See you later!”

“Bye, Rudolph,” the elf warmly said to his best friend. Then he turned a baleful eye to one of the waiting elves. “You! Whatever your name is, get your butt in here! Now!”

Hermey heard the sinister snicker from Rudolph as he held open the door for the next patient while the reindeer exited the office. It gave the elf a sense of unity with ungulate who would now go and pass off the mishap with the flight team as an accident. It inspired Hermey to really give his next patient the treatment the quaking elf so richly deserved in his opinion.


End file.
